Easier to Run
by Life.as.a.Femmeslash
Summary: After Voldemort's defeat, Harry runs away to America, looking for a new life, and to forget the pain of his loss. Songfic of Linkin Park's "Easier to Run." (Post OotP HD slash)
1. Defeat

Easier to Run  
Chapter One:  
  
It's easier to run  
  
Replacing this pain with something numb  
It's so much easier to go  
Than face all this pain here all alone  
  
He screamed with pain as the curse hit him again. This time, it wasn't raised instantly. He curled into a ball, trying his best not to let them see his pain..  
The softest of screams escaped his lips, and the curse was lifted.  
  
Harry's hands shook violently as he threw all his belongings into his trunk. Nothing was left for him here; he had let them all down in a way he never could have imagined.  
  
"I want to hear you beg, boy," the monster in front of him hissed, grabbing his around the throat. "I want to hear you scream. I want you to feel as much pain as I have because of you."  
He didn't speak. He wouldn't beg.. He wouldn't scream again..  
"Crucio!"  
The curse hit him again. An unbearable pain shot up his spine, and he collapsed on the cold stone floor of Hogwarts.  
  
A tear escaped his lids as he ran down the nearly collapsing old stone steps to the common room-the place that used to be his sanctuary; the place he had let them destroy, without trying to stop them.  
"I'm sorry," he whispered to the heavens, closing his eyes again. "I'm so sorry. I should have stopped him.."  
  
"You killed everyone I ever loved," he whispered, tightening his grip on his wand. "EVERYONE! I've already been through more pain than you can imagine."  
"We'll see about that, boy," the man sneered, his scarlet eyes flashing malevolently. "We'll see about that."  
"Crucio!"  
"Avada Kedavra!"  
The room lit up in a golden light. They were both lifted off their feet.  
  
A single black carriage waited for him outside Hogwarts, ready to take him to Hogsmeade platform. He walked to the thestral that pulled it, running his callused hands through its fine, soft mane.  
These horses always reminded him of his fifth year.. Of the night that Sirius had died. Even now, after everyone else that had died because of him, Sirius's death hurt the most.  
  
A ghostly body floated out of the tip of Voldemort's wand, and Harry almost lost his control.  
"Sirius."  
His godfather looked up at him sadly. "Don't let him beat you, Harry. This is the last time, after this it's all over. Don't give in to him."  
Harry nodded slightly, concentrating again on the battle.  
"I love you," Sirius whispered, before disappearing.  
Several more bodies were emitted from Voldemort's wand. Some of the people he knew, most he didn't. Cho, Marietta, Colin and Denis, Ginny.. But the three to catch his attention most almost threw him off with the fight. Ron and Hermione appeared, hand in hand, smiling sadly at Harry. Dumbledore followed them, a look of horror that Harry had never seen the old headmaster wear.  
"You killed them," Harry murmured, staring, horrified, at the ghostly shapes of his best friends.  
"Yes, Potter," Voldemort sneered, almost happily. "I killed them. They're gone, just as you will be."  
  
Once the carriage stopped, he climbed slowly out of it and stood, staring almost terrified, at the huge train that sat in front of him. And to think, out of all the thousands of people that had attended Hogwarts, he would be the only person to ride the train back home.  
The thought sent shivers up his spine. How had they managed to kill all those people? Surely it wasn't that easy.. And how many had they lost? Had Lestrange and Malfoy been killed?  
  
The golden strand of light broke, and Harry fell to the floor, unable to support hi weight. He looked down at his legs-one was broken; there had been a crunch when he had landed, and he had lost the feeling in both legs.  
"Not bad, Potter," Voldemort hissed, pacing the room. "I do believe that you're making much progress from our last meeting. You're holding your strength rather well."  
He stayed quiet. Don't look him in the eyes, don't let him read your mind, don't let him know how much pain you're in.  
"I can't have that, though. It has been fun, but I'm afraid I'm going to have to end this little game of ours."  
He raised his wand and put it to Harry's forehead. "Good bye, Potter. You get to see your parents and all your little friends again."  
"Avada Ke-"  
"AVADA KEDAVRA!"  
A green light shot from Harry's wand. He closed his eyes. He had thought that revenge would make him feel better.. Revenge for killing his parents, for killing his friends, for killing his godfather, for killing his headmaster.. But it only made the pain worse. And now, he knew there was no way for him to be saved. Saved from this horrible life, that he had wished to leave behind for so long. 


	2. Running Away

Chapter Two:  
  
Something has been taken  
  
From deep inside of me  
A secret I've kept locked away  
No one can ever see  
  
"You're going to America?"  
Harry nodded, and the flight attendant smiled at him. "How old are you?"  
"Seventeen," Harry muttered, staring down at his plate of food.  
"Well why are you flying alone?" she asked sweetly.  
"I don't wanna talk about it," Harry whispered, shaking his head.  
The flight attendant nodded, her reddish-blond bouncing around her beautiful face. "I understand. Leaving the past behind, right? Running away from home? You look familiar."  
His hand automatically went to his forehead, which was covered with his unruly hair. He sighed.  
"I think I saw you in the paper," she smiled. "Oh, yes, it was you. You did something amazing.. I can't remember what. I'm sorry. I know you must get that a lot."  
Harry nodded again.  
"I'm Cloe," the flight attendant said, holding out her hand. "Nice to meet you."  
"I'm Harry," Harry whispered, trying his best to smile.  
"If you need anything, just ask me, okay? I'll take care of it," Cloe chuckled, walking back to the front of the plane.  
Harry let out a low hiss. She was friendly. and reminded him of Ginny, with her long reddish hair and almost glowing smile. Damn, why couldn't these thoughts just leave him?  
  
"Harry, I need to tell you something," Ginny whispered, glancing nervously around the room.  
"What's wrong?" he asked, an eyebrow raised. "Are you okay?"  
"I'm fine," she muttered. "But-Harry, I've been keeping a secret from you. For five years. And-I wanted to tell you so badly, but I couldn't find the courage."  
Harry smiled. He already knew what she was going to tell her-it was so obvious, everyone knew, and no one cared.  
"I-I have a. a crush on you," she stuttered, avoiding his eyes.  
Harry pretended to be shocked. "Really?" he asked, pulling an amazed face. "I always thought you just didn't like me! I mean, you never talked to me, and went silent whenever I was in the room."  
Ginny couldn't help but chuckle. "Come on, Harry, I'm serious! I've liked you for five years, and I never had enough courage to tell you."  
"I know," Harry whispered, pulling her into a hug. "Everyone knows, Gin. Did you think I wouldn't notice?"  
"Why didn't you say anything?!" Ginny exclaimed, pulling back.  
Harry shrugged. "I wanted to see if you'd have enough courage to tell me," he smiled. "I just wanted to make sure you really liked me that much."  
  
He wiped a tear away from his cheek as the memory ended. Why had he told her? He should have known it would have put her in danger.. Things would have been different if they had just stayed friends.  
He picked up his headphones, willing the memories away. He didn't want to think about it anymore; he was sick of living like this, drowning in his own sorrow and self-pity.  
  
"You love her."  
He shook his head vigorously. "I hate her."  
The look of horror on Ginny's face intensified. He knew there was nothing he could do to save her, but it was worth a try. But it hurt Harry to see her look so mortified, because of him. He could have said something else, just as long as no one hurt her.  
"Oh, is that so?" Lestrange sneered, twirling her wand amuzedly. "Then you wouldn't care if we killed her right now, would you?"  
He didn't answer. He was staring determinedly at Ginny, trying to let her see how sorry he was. She turned her head.  
"Harry, don't be brave for me!" she shouted. "You can't save me.. Just find a way out!"  
"I don't know what you're talking about," Harry said icily, trying his best not to let his emotions show. "I hate you, Weasley, I always have."  
Rookwood sneered. "We all know you're lying, Potter. You can't hide love."  
"Well you've become a master at it," Harry muttered.  
"CRUCIO!"  
He fliched, waiting for the spell to hit him. But there came no pain.  
A deafening scream filled the air, and his eyes shot open. Ginny was sprawled on the floor, twitching madly.  
"GINNY!" he shouted, trying to reach her, but the ropes that held him stayed strong.  
  
The plane landed safely on the runway twelve hours later. Harry rushed out of the plane, eager to be alone for a while.  
"What's the hurry, Harry?" Cloe asked, walking with him as he entered the airport.  
"I just. just bad memories, I guess," he sighed, sitting down on a bench nearby.  
Cloe nodded. "Leaving your old life behind. You know, that's how I came here. I wanted to get out of England."  
"Why'd you leave?" Harry asked, looking up into the woman's amused face. "What happened to you?"  
"Well," Cloe sighed, "For one, my parents split up. It wasn't very fun. I had to switch houses every three weeks, most of the time meeting them without my mum or dad around, but when they did meet.. Let's just say, it wasn't pretty. Then there was the growing threat of Sirius Black, and all the other Azkaban escapees and ex-prisoners. My mum wanted us to move to Australia, but-"  
"Wait," Harry exclaimed, his eyes wide. "You-you said Azkaban! How did you know?"  
Cloe smiled. "Well, simple. I'm a witch."  
Harry's jaw dropped. "Really? Why did you say."  
"Oh, that I didn't know who you were?" Cloe asked, smiling at him. "I didn't want any other passengers finding out. Just in case they heard, you know. And you were in the Muggle paper, so I thought it'd be a good thing to say."  
"Then you must know why I'm here?" Harry scowled.  
"Of course I do," Cloe sighed, frowning. "I just want to tell you- I'm sorry for what happened to al your friends. But at least You-Know- Who's gone now, right? He can't hurt anymore people anymore."  
Harry nodded. "I-could you call me James here? I came here-to America-to leave my life behind.. I don't want to be reminded of it."  
"Of course," Cloe smiled warmly. "James." 


	3. Stalker

Chapter Three  
Wounds so deep they never show  
They never go away  
Like moving pictures in my head  
For years and years they've played  
  
I watched as Harry left. I watched as Harry boarded the plane. I watched as he talked to the flight attendant-who no doubt reminds him of the Weasley girl-and I watched as he told her to call him James. And I still can't understand.  
Yes, he lost his friends. No, he didn't have to leave. Yes, he hates me. No, I don't hate him. Yes, he thinks I'm a Death Eater, but no, I am not.  
He wasn't the only one in pain as they killed all the muggle-borns. He wasn't the only one who wanted to stop them, but couldn't. He wasn't the only one who was against them, but couldn't stop them.  
I sat on the sidelines, watching as they took the lives of thousands and thousands of innocent students. I watched as they took the life of both my friends and Harry's, and I looked away as they tortured Harry. It was the one thing I could not stand to watch, however much the killings bugged me.  
Now I'm sitting in the airport in Los Angeles, California, watching as Harry grabs his bags from the baggage area, talking to that Cloe girl all the way. I already hate her.  
I can't believe I'm here. I came for him, and yet. he's not really there, is he? I mean, he's there, but. I can't let him know that I'm here. He'll get scared.. I don't want him to think I'm stalking him.  
Well, I am.. But only to make sure he's alright here. Before Dumbledore died, he assigned to a mission I didn't quite enjoy. Then.  
He told me to watch after Harry, make sure that Harry's okay, make sure he's not in danger. Never let Harry know I'm there. Make sure Potter has everything he bloody wants.  
That's what I used to think of it. At first, I only watched him because I was assigned to. I didn't want to upset the great Albus Dumbledore, in any way. But then. it became interesting. Dumbledore gave me an invisibility cloak and the Gryffindor password after I had gained his trust. To make sure Harry didn't Floo anywhere or climb out his window.  
So I watched him day and night, like the good little boy I am. And I never let him know I was there. And I never let him get caught in too sticky a situation.  
Yes, I did let small things slip. Like, for instance, when Crabbe and Goyle got mad at that Granger girl for ruining their potion.. I let that slide. It's fun to watch Potter worm his way out of tricky situations.  
But now I'm here. I don't know why. The danger's gone, Voldemort's dead, and there is no death threat hanging over Harry's head. It's a hard habit to shake, watching him, and I'm not planning on stopping. Even if he finds out.  
He walks into the busy lobby of the airport, and I'm up. I can't lose him in the crowd. or else I may never find him again.  
Harry waves quickly to Cloe, and goes down a set of stairs. He runs a hand through his hair, looking around. He's obviously confused. He didn't realize that the shuttle going into town was two floors down, as the sign said half a mile back down the jam-packed hallway.  
I'm trained to notice these things. It comes in handy sometimes.  
I want to tell him.. I want to walk right up to him and say hello. I want to be civilized with him, tell him what's going on, why I'm still here, why-even after Dumbledore died-I am still following him. But I can't. I will keep my word to Dumbledore for as long as I can-which isn't saying much.  
So far I've kept my promise for two years.  
He looks in my direction, and I duck behind a bench, crouching down so he couldn't see me over the crowd.  
When I look back, he's gone.  
"Damn." 


	4. Searching

Chapter Four  
A/N: Hello all. Really quickly I must say this: yes, magnetic- starfish, this IS going to be a Harry/Draco story! It says in the description that it is a post OotP H/D SLASH!!! I love H/D's, but if you don't like it, you don't have to read it. If you think I ruined it with that, then you can suggest I make a non-slash version of it, and maybe I will.. But not for sure, so don't get your hopes up, because I have a lot to do now that school started.  
THANK YOU TO ALL MY FAITHFUL, LOYAL REVIEWERS AND READERS!!!!!!  
  
*_*_*_*_*  
  
If I could change I would  
  
Take back the pain I would  
  
Retrace every wrong move that I made I would  
  
If I could  
  
Stand up and take the blame I would  
  
If I could take all the shame to the grave I  
  
Would  
  
*_*_*_*_*  
"Michael?!"  
"Yeah. Forget about James, okay? That's a part of my past too."  
"But-"  
"Please?"  
Cloe frowned. Harry always seemed to get what he wanted when he begged. "Alright, fine, Michael," she muttered, pulling a face. "You just don't look like a Michael! It's weird-couldn't you choose something else?"  
"Like what?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "Tony?"  
"No, like.." Cloe paused, thinking, then sighed in defeat. "You only really look like Harry or James."  
"See?" Harry rolled his eyes. "I can't be them. I can't be Harry anymore, because I'm not going back to England. I know that's what people want, but I can't.." He trailed off, his voice cracking.  
She didn't know what to do. Harry Potter was crying into her shoulder, and she didn't have a clue how to comfort him. What if she said something wrong?  
"Harry, it's okay," she whispered, stoking his hair nervously. "We all lost someone in the battle. And I know you loved them. But-you'll find new friends."  
Harry cried harder, and she gritted her teeth, frustrated with herself.  
"I didn't mean you'd find someone to replace them," she smiled sadly, tilting his head up. "They'll always have a special place for them in your heart. What I meant is, you're not gonna be alone forever. You'll make more friends here, people who'll stick by you when things get tough."  
"Like you," Harry sniffed, wiping the remaining tears from his face. "Sorry. That was really the first time I was able to get it all out."  
Cloe smiled again and hugged him. "It's okay, there's nothing wrong with it."  
I wish I could take it back," he whispered. "I wish I could take it all back. Starting with Sirius."  
"I know," Cloe murmured, sighing lightly. "I know you miss him." ***  
"Dammit!" Draco shouted, storming into his room. "Damn, damn, damn, damn!"  
He sat down on the chair next to the television, fuming. How had he let Harry get away so easily?  
  
'I have to find him,' he told himself. 'I can't just let him off-not after all this time. I need to find him, soon.'  
He jumped up and ran to the door, pulling his coat off the hook it rested on next to the exit. ***  
Draco walked the crowded streets for hours, wondering where Harry would go in a city this side. After five hours, he came to his conclusion of Harry's most likely location: nowhere. He wouldn't leave his apartment, not so soon after he had just moved here, unless that Cloe girl dragged him out. Which was unlikely. She knew what he went through, so it was doubtful that she'd push him to do anything so soon.  
But where was he staying? In a hotel, like Draco was? Or did he have an apartment, or a house of his own?  
And if he were in a hotel, which one? There were hundreds just in the area, how was he supposed to find the one person he was looking for?  
"Damn," he muttered again, leaning against the wall of an old office building. "Harry, where are you?"  
  
*_*_*_*_*  
A/N again: I know the chapters are short. Please forgive me!!! I'm just busy, as I said before, and now short chapters seem natural; I can't do a 3,000 word chapter anymore, it just doesn't feel right!!! AHHHH!!!!  
Okay, sorry for wasting your time, but I have a question that has NOTHING to do with this fanfiction, Harry Potter, or writing at all. Here it is, if you don't want to bother reading it OR replying to it, you don't have to:  
Okay, I like this guy at my new school, he's really sweet and cute and funny and crazy, which is hard to find in a guy, but there are two problems. One: he's four years older than me, and two, HE'S GAY!!!! And I don't know what to do, I really, really like him, and I can't get over him.. PLEASE HELP!!!!! 


	5. Discovered

Chapter Five  
  
Sometimes I remember  
  
The darkness of my past  
  
Bringing back these memories  
  
I wish I didn't have  
  
Cloe frowned deeply as she walked into Harry's apartment. He was lying on the sofa, watching television.  
"Come on, you need to get out," she sighed. "You're a mess! Didn't you come here to forget your past?"  
Harry nodded, but didn't look at her.  
"I know some people you'd like to meet," she continued, walking over to him. "They're really nice. I think you'd hit it off!"  
He still didn't move.  
"Come on, Michael," she pleaded, kneeling down in front of him. "I know this is hard for you - I'm only trying to make it easier. Don't you want more friends, to help you get through this?"  
He didn't speak. She sighed and stood up.  
"I'll be at my place, then."  
She started for the door, wishing Harry would snap out of whatever he was thinking about.  
"Wait," Harry called reluctantly. She turned around to face him, smiling. "Just give me an hour, okay? I need to shower and shave."  
She nodded as Harry lifted himself off the couch. "But if you try to escape, I'm gonna petrify you and leave you here for the whole weekend!"  
"Alright with me," Harry muttered, walking to the bathroom. Cloe gently slapped him on the back of the head as she moved to the couch.  
"Yech, Harry, you need to clean up around here! It's filthy!" she exclaimed, picking beer cans off the floor and tossing them in the garbage.  
"I haven't felt like cleaning lately," Harry shrugged, closing the bathroom door behind him. "I haven't really been in the mood to do much lately, Cloe. It's just not the time for it, you know?"  
"Well, now it is the time for it," Cloe smiled. "Go on, I want you to meet some of my friends."  
  
*_*_*_*_*  
"Shit!"  
Draco ducked behind a bench as a group of people came out of a nearby store, laughing and joking. And - at the head of the group was. . . .  
"No way," Draco whispered, peeking out behind the bench.  
Harry was smiling wildly - the first time Draco had seen him smile since fifth year. 'Two bloody years without one smile out of him, and now he's going around grinning like a bloody idiot?!'  
Something caught Harry's eyes, and his head snapped to the side, his smile fading almost immediately.  
"Malfoy?!"  
"Shit!" Draco repeated quietly, hitting his head harshly against the cool metal he was resting his body against.  
"Is that you, Malfoy?!"  
"What's up, Michael?" Todd, Cloe's boyfriend, asked.  
"Hold on - I think I saw someone I knew," Harry muttered, walking toward the bench. He peeked his head around, and automatically staggered back, surprised. "Malfoy! What are you doing here?!"  
"Er - I. . . . Well. . ." Draco stuttered, too nervous to speak clearly. 'I should've seen this coming! He would have discovered eventually!'  
"I moved here after. . . . You know."  
"Why are you hiding behind a bench?!"  
"I'm not hiding, Potter!" Draco protested, climbing to his feet. "I tripped, that's all! Muggle rubbish all over the ground. . . ."  
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Never, in all the years I've known you, NEVER have I seen you trip."  
"Well, Malfoys can be clumsy at times," Draco hissed, trying his best to appear angry. "You just don't look hard enough. It's really not that hard to catch, Potter!"  
"Michael!" Cloe called, running over to them. "Who's this? A friend?"  
"Anything but," Harry grumbled.  
"Michael?!" Draco exclaimed, raising his eyebrows.  
"Shut up, Malfoy," Harry growled dangerously.  
"Since when have you been Michael?!" Draco ranted, ignoring Harry's feral warning.  
"Since now!" Harry spat, shooting daggers at Draco with his glare.  
"Who is this?" Cloe asked, concerned. "Michael, are you okay?"  
"It doesn't matter," Harry glowered. "Come on, Cloe, let's go. We don't need to waste anymore time on HIM."  
Cloe shrugged and followed Harry off toward the rest of the group.  
"Potter, wait!" Draco exclaimed, grabbing Harry's arm automatically.  
"It's Michael," Harry barked coldly. "Michael Smith."  
"Fine then, Smith," Draco sneered, genuinely annoyed.  
"Was that it?" Harry snapped, pulling his arm away. "Because I have things to do."  
"No." Draco rolled his eyes. "I wanted to ask you if. . . . If you wanted to go out to dinner sometime."  
Harry raised an eyebrow. "Why the sudden change in attitude toward me, Malfoy? Trying to get on my good side now?" "It's nothing like that. I just didn't know many people here, and I thought you'd like to have a old friend, too."  
"Since when were you an old friend?"  
"Come on, Michael," Cloe smiled encouragingly. "Just a dinner. It's no big deal."  
"Are you forgetting why I came here, Cloe?" Harry asked softly. "He's a part of my past - a very, very bad part - and I'd rather not bring him back into my life."  
"But - oh, come on, Harry, just give him a chance? He looks like he means it."  
"But I don't!"  
Cloe stared at him for a minute, and he frowned. "Please don't, Cloe."  
"Say yes," she nearly commanded. "You'll have more time out of the apartment - more time with other people, and less time wallowing on the past."  
"Fine, Cloe, fine," he grumbled, then turned back to Draco. "Sure, Malfoy, I'd LOVE to go out with you."  
"Well, then. . . . How about Friday?" Draco smiled, surprised.  
"Whatever," Harry drawled before stomping off towards the rest of his new friends.  
"Sorry about him," Cloe smiled shyly. "He's just in a bad mood lately."  
"That's not true," Draco challenged. "He's been in a bad mood since he saw me. Before that, he was laughing and joking and having a good time."  
Cloe nodded. "It's true, sorry." She chuckled. "Well, what time should you two meet?"  
"I'm not going on a date with Harry Potter if his new little crony is going to set it up for us," Draco hissed.  
"First off, Malfoy," Cloe hissed back, meeting and matching his sneer, "It's not a date, it's a get-together, and second, I'm not his crony, or his pet, or his little drooling puppy. I'm his friend, someone who'll always be there for him, who won't give up on him. Obviously you don't have enough of those, if you don't understand that. And third, DON'T call him Harry Potter again! His name is Michael Smith now, it doesn't matter what it used to be."  
"Whatever, just tell him to call me if he plans on getting out of his place this weekend, alright? I'm staying at the Hilton, just tell him to ask for room 506."  
"Fine," Cloe hissed, and followed Harry off towards the rest of their friends.  
Draco mentally slapped himself. He had promised that now he was in a new place, he would have a new attitude. Nice! And, what had gotten into him, asking Harry out to dinner?! He wasn't supposed to let Harry know he was here, and if he WAS found, he wasn't supposed to give any signs of interest! A rule he had learned from Snape - never let Potter get even the tiniest hint of suspicion.  
'Well, it's too late now,' Draco thought. 'Idiot!'  
He grumbled as he walked off in the direction Harry was going, quietly lurking behind them, unaware that someone was watching him.  
  
*_*_*_*_*  
A/N: I know it's messed up, I'm just in a messed up mood lately! Sorry!!!  
Really quickly, to the things that are reading Broken Lives: I know I only got the first chapter in so far, but I only have five, so I guess I'll tell you this now. I was really tired when I wrote the ending to it, so I'm gonna have to rewrite it, so it may take a while before I get the next chapters up. So don't be expecting an update on that story anytime soon.  
To the people reading Here Without You: I'm having writer's block!!! Sorry, but it's really bad, I'll get it out as soon as I can, but I'm not sure how soon that'll be! I mean, I know what I want to write, I just don't know how to word it, without making it sound really, really stupid!!! Sorry about it! Seriously, as soon as I can, maybe next week, maybe next month!!!  
  
~~TTFN, deathdragon4~~ 


	6. Dining with the Enemy

Chapter Six  
  
Sometimes I think of letting go  
  
And never looking back  
  
And never moving forward so  
  
There would never be a past.  
  
"I can't believe I agreed to this," Harry muttered as he and Cloe walked into the restaurant.  
"Well, why not?" Cloe insisted. "It's a free meal, Harry."  
"Yeah, that he probably poisoned," Harry growled.  
"I doubt he'd do that," Cloe shrugged. "It'd be found easily, Harry. I'm sure he's smarter than that."  
Harry turned to glare at her, but when he saw a huge grin on her beautiful face, he couldn't help but smile himself.  
"Oh, there he is." Cloe pointed to a table at the side of the room, where the blond was seated, looking into his glass.  
"I'll just be going now," Cloe said quickly, dodging away from Harry, but Harry caught her wrist.  
"You got me into this, Cloe," he said firmly. "You're coming with me. I'm not going to sit through an entire meal listening to his criticism by myself."  
"Fine," Cloe sighed. "Whatever. Let's go, we don't want to keep him waiting."  
Harry let out a long, low hiss before making his way for the table.  
Draco turned as the two of them approached. He had been able to feel the two of them looking at him the entire time, but didn't react.  
"Hello, Po – Michael," Draco greeted him, wrinkling his nose in disgust at the name.  
"Hello, Malfoy," Harry replied lazily, sitting down opposite him. Cloe sat down next to Harry without a word.  
"So how have you been?" Draco asked, searching for conversation.  
"How do you think?" Harry muttered. Cloe kicked him under the table and glared at him. "Fine, Malfoy. I've been fine."  
Draco nodded, rolling his eyes, and took a drink from his glass.  
"So how about you?" Cloe asked, realizing that Harry wasn't going to even bother trying to start conversation. "Having fun in America?"  
"Sure, I guess," Draco shrugged. "I got a job at the. . . ."  
Draco froze. He'd almost said it.  
"It's okay," Harry said. "She is, too."  
Draco smiled slightly. "I got a job at the Ministry, as an Auror. There aren't many Death Eaters back in England, but there are still quite a few Dark Wizards here."  
Cloe grinned and Harry. "Maybe you should do that, Harry. You'd be good at it, I'm sure."  
"You haven't gotten a job yet?"  
"I haven't really been in a searching mood, lately, Malfoy," Harry gritted out. "You know, jet lag."  
"So why don't you now?" Draco asked, trying his best to ignore the sarcastic tone in Harry's voice. "You'll need a job soon."  
"Yeah, Michael," Cloe smiled. "You should try for the job, right? It wouldn't hurt."  
"Maybe I will," Harry sighed, defeated. "Maybe it would keep me from thinking about before. . . ."  
  
***  
Cloe glared at Harry as they walked out of the restaurant.  
"How could you act like that, Michael?!" She exclaimed after a few minutes.  
"Like what?" he asked lightly.  
"You know damn well what!"  
Harry frowned. "He's been my worst enemy since we were eleven, Cloe," he said. "He's done everything wrong to me that he could possibly do. He even tried to kill me once or twice. Do you really think that just because he bought me dinner one night, that's all forgotten?"  
"I'm not asking you to forget it, Harry, I'm asking you to move past it. It's not healthy for you to do this to yourself. You're stressing yourself out way too much. Just loosen up. He's not going to try to hex you while we're sitting in the middle of a crowded Muggle restaurant. He's too smart for that."  
"Just forget it, Cloe," Harry muttered. "I don't want to talk about him anymore."  
"I'm not going to drop it until you promise me one thing."  
"What?"  
"The next time you're around him you'll relax, and at least try not to say anything rude like you did tonight."  
"I can't promise that."  
"Just try!" Cloe pleaded. "Look, Harry. I know you aren't having an easy time with all this, and I know Draco's not making it easier, but he's trying. He's trying to help you, Harry. The least you could do is try to be a bit more polite."  
"Why does it even matter, Cloe? I highly doubt we'll be going out to dinner again."  
  
***  
"Hello?"  
"Wanna go out?"  
Harry rubbed his eyes tiredly. "It's one-thirty in the morning."  
"Not on British time." There was a slight tone of amusement in Draco's voice.  
"How'd you get this number, anyway?"  
"Muggle phone directory. Do you wanna go out?" he repeated.  
"I've gotten used to American time, you know, Malfoy. Next time you want to go out, make sure it's not the middle of the night."  
"Is that a yes?"  
Harry grumbled. "I'll meet you outside the restaurant in a hour."  
"See you then."  
Harry hung up the phone and swung his legs over the edge of the bed. It was the first time he'd slept since Voldemort attacked Hogwarts, and Draco Malfoy just had to come and interrupt it. . . .  
"Why am I even going?" he muttered to himself.  
'Because you need someone to talk to,' a voice in the back of his head chimed.  
"Not Malfoy."  
'He's willing to listen. Put the past behind you, like you're trying to do with England. He's trying to help you.'  
Harry growled deep in the throat as he dressed, disgusted with himself.  
  
***  
Harry walked straight up to Draco as soon as he saw him. "Why did you want to come out with me?"  
Draco shrugged. "Why did you want to come out with me?"  
"I. . . . I didn't!" Harry said defensively. "It's just. . . . Well, you woke me, and I knew that there was no chance of me getting back to sleep. I had nothing to do at home."  
"So you came out because you were bored." Draco snorted. "Since when have you been the social butterfly?"  
"Since when have you?" Harry shot back. Draco looked confused. "Why did you want to come out with me, when before, at school, you hated my guts?"  
"Don't really know." Draco shrugged again. "I guess it was because you're the only person in this city I know. It's nice to have old friends."  
"Since when were we friends?" Harry asked, eyeing Draco suspiciously.  
"Look, could you please drop the act? I know you need someone to talk to as much as I do. So just get over yourself, get over everything that happened before, and let's start fresh, okay? We can at least try, can't we?"  
Harry sighed heavily. "One part of me wants to say yes, but the other part wants to kill myself for that. . ."  
Draco smiled. "So why did you pick Michael Smith?"  
"I. . . . Several reasons. It's not really important, is it? I really don't feel like talking about this right now. I don't feel like talking at all," Harry muttered.  
"It doesn't really matter, I was just wondering," Draco shrugged. "You don't have to answer if you don't want to. I understand."  
They begun walking in silence, neither of them sure of where they were going, and neither of them really caring where they end up. Them just needed to be around someone.  
Finally, Harry sighed. "Because it's a common name."  
"What?" Draco glanced up, confused.  
"That's the reason I picked Michael Smith. Because it's a common name. Practically everyone is name Michael Smith. That's what I want. I don't want to stand out anymore. I want to be a normal person."  
"Why?" Draco asked, thoroughly amazed. "Why be a normal person? What's the point if being like everyone else, when you can be your own person, different and individual? I don't know how you can not want to be different from the boring old blokes of the world!"  
"That's just it!" Harry exclaimed. "I want to be a boring old bloke! I want to be normal and unexciting. I want to be Michael Smith. Because if I'm normal and boring, then none of this would've happened. I would've been back at Hogwarts, carefree and unworried. I'd be playing wizards chess with Ron, while Hermione complains about how we never do our work. . . ."  
He sighed and sat down on the sidewalk against a building. "I wish I could just forget all of this. I wish I could just let this go."  
"Then do it," Draco said softly. "You don't have to change who you are to turn your life around."  
"You don't understand, do you?" Harry looked up at Draco pathetically. "You have no idea how it feels, do you? I lost everyone I've ever loved in the battle. /b. The only way to forget about it... is to change who I am. As long as I'm Harry Potter, there's going to be this tiny part of my brain constantly reminding me that I let them down. And if I can finally wipe the memories from my brain, there will be someone whispering in my ear all the things that happened. It's always been that way. Nothing is going to change that."  
Draco bit his lip. He knew more about the pain of death than Harry gave him credit for.  
"Okay." Draco nodded. "If it will really help, I'll drop the subject and call you Michael. Harry no longer exists in my mind. Just answer one question for me."  
"Alright," Harry said hesitantly.  
"What do you really expect to accomplish by being mean to me? Let me remind you that I'm part of your old life. So is our rivalry. So you could just drop it and we could start fresh, and that would be killing one more part of your old life. But that's obviously something you won't let go. What's the point of holding on to something so worthless?"  
Harry didn't respond automatically. "I don't know."  
  
*_*_*_*_*  
  
A/Ns: Sorry this story took too long, too :P Most of you know my reason.... Well, I know this chapter kinda sucks, and I was considering rewriting it... but I didn't want it to take even longer than it already had. REAL sorry about how horrible it is :P I'll make it up to you in the next chapter (which I will start as soon as I submit this chapter.)  
  
~~TTFN, Deathdragon4~~ 


	7. Mistake

Easier to Run Chapter 7  
  
Just washing it aside  
  
All of the helplessness inside  
  
Pretending I don't feel misplaced  
  
Is so much simpler than change  
  
"Why don't you come out with us?"  
"Us?"  
Harry shrugged. "I'm going out with Cloe and the gang today. They all wanna know how my 'date' went," he said sarcastically. "You wanna come?"  
"With Cloe?" Draco asked, wrinkling his nose.  
"Awe, are you worried about me, Draco?" Harry asked in mock-delight. "She has a boyfriend, you don't have to be jealous."  
"I am not jealous!" Draco protested quickly.  
"Oh, now I get it," Harry teased. "You hate her for absolutely no reason whatsoever and you don't even know her."  
"You make it sound so cruel," Draco muttered.  
"That's because it is." Harry pulled the carton of milk out of his refrigerator. "Do you want to come or not?"  
Draco shrugged. "Sure. I got nothing better to do."  
"Good," Harry smiled. "They're giving me an American-style makeover today. Cloe's best friend, Dawson, said he has a great hair stylist that I might like. You might want a haircut too."  
"Hell no," Draco replied. I like my hair just the way it is."  
"Well, if you want to look like your father..." Harry mumbled. He grabbed two glasses from his cupboard and poured the milk into them.  
"I don't drink milk," Draco said, straightening his posture.  
Harry rolled his eyes and handed the glass to Draco. "You do now." He took a drink of his own glass and wiped his mouth on his sleeve. "Hmmm... I think I might ask Dawson out. He seems like a really great guy."  
Draco blinked at him.  
"What?" Harry asked. "I'm just thinking aloud. No big deal..."  
"Do you really think that you're ready for another relationship? So soon?" Draco asked.  
"A little harmless dating won't hurt anything, Draco. I think it's about time I at least go out on a real date... instead of dinner with you." He laughed.  
"What's wrong with dinner with me?" Draco asked, taken aback.  
"Nothing," Harry replied. "Just that I've been going out with you every night for a week. I haven't been doing anything else. It's kinda pathetic."  
"I don't think there's anything pathetic about it," Draco mumbled.  
  
***  
  
Draco watched the large group of people sitting in front of him as if he were an outsider. He followed every movement, memorized every word, as if his life counted on the conversations going on. And to him, it felt like it did.  
He avoided Dawson the entire time, ignoring him when he tried to make conversation. He watched him the most. He had deliberately coaxed Cloe to sit directly between them as they ate their lunch.  
Something about the idea of Harry dating someone bothered him. It seemed wrong. Draco couldn't explain it; if Harry was ready to move on, he should have been too.  
Harry smiled at Draco thoughtfully as he set his sandwich down. Draco looked down at his plate. He hadn't even realized how often he stared at Harry until Harry looked back at him.  
Cloe looked from Harry to Draco in the new silence. Draco looked up and saw her eyes darting back and forth.  
"Draco, could I talk to you?" she asked slowly.  
Draco bit his lip as he stood. "Yeah?"  
Cloe walked out of earshot of the table, with Draco following close behind. "You like him, don't you?" she whispered.  
"What are you talking about?" Draco asked skeptically.  
"Come on, it's so obvious!" she exclaimed. "You like Harry! Why didn't you say something?"  
Something clicked in Draco's mind. She was right. It WAS obvious. But he wasn't about to admit it. "Cloe, I don't have a crush on Harry. He's just a friend! I have no idea what would make you think that."  
Cloe rolled her eyes. "If you say so." She sat back down at the table, only in a different spot. She sat next to Todd. Harry and Dawson scooted closer together to make room for her in her new seat.  
Draco grunted and sat back down, shooting her a nasty look.  
Harry began eating his sandwich again as Dawson talked to him. Harry gave Draco a shy smile as their eyes locked, then he looked back at Dawson.  
"Is everyone ready to go to the salon?" Cloe asked as Harry dropped his half-eaten sandwich.  
"Yeah, I'm finished here," Harry said, and stood up. Everyone followed him.  
  
***  
  
Harry wrinkled his nose as he looked in the mirror. "They didn't do anything different. What was the point of that?" he asked as he ran his fingers throw his unruly hair.  
"That's not true," Draco said. "They gave you highlights. You just can't see them from up there."  
"What did they do to you?" Harry asked, turning to Draco, who was wearing a tan baseball cap. "Did they brutalize your beautiful locks?" he added sarcastically.  
Draco glared, but nodded. "I'm not taking this hat off. Not until I get back to my hotel room."  
"Eh, take it off. It can't be that bad. Not like we would care anyway," Harry smiled.  
Draco smacked his lips together and reluctantly lifted the hat from his head. His silvery-blond hair fell across his forehead loosely. The tips were striped a baby blue, so light you could hardly tell the dye was there. His hair was parted in a zigzag pattern down the center of his scalp. Draco bit his lip as he pulled a few strands away from his eyes and tucked it behind his ear.  
"It's horrible. I never leave my hair down for a reason," he mumbled, putting the cap back on.  
"No, no, no," Harry nearly shouted, grabbing the hat. "Draco... that looks amazing. If you ever put this hat on again I'll be forced to kill you." He stared at Draco's hair, circling his slowly. He reached up and ran a finger through the soft, silk-like hair.  
"Harry, have you gone insane? It looks horrible on me! It's not my style at all!" Draco complained.  
"Oh, shut up, Draco, it looks great," Harry exclaimed, rolling his eyes. Don't be such a drama queen!"  
Draco huffed indignantly as he made a grab for the cap. Harry pulled it away faster than Draco could manage and tossed the hat in the trash can next to the entrance of the hair salon.  
"Harry!" Draco shouted. "I can't..."  
"Come on, you two!" Cloe grinned before Draco could finish. "Stop acting like five-year-olds and let's go. The arcade is waiting for us!"  
Cloe and the rest of the group started down the street. Harry began to follow them, but Draco grabbed his arm.  
"Draco, come on, we're gonna be late," Harry said, curious to why Draco stopped him.  
Draco ignored Harry's words and stared into his eyes. Harry didn't look away. His eyes were curious, and playful and alive. Draco couldn't remember the last time he had seen Harry look so happy. It had been so long.  
Draco stepped toward Harry, entranced by his beautiful emerald eyes. Before he could even think about what he was doing, his lips brushed against Harry's. His eyes fell shut. He savored the soft skin against his, only for a brief moment.  
"I... I-I..." Harry mumbled as he stumbled backwards. "I have to go." He jogged down the street, looking over his shoulder once on his way.  
"Shit!" Draco yelled, closing his eyes again. He couldn't believe he had the nerve to wreck the friendship he had worked so hard on building between them.  
  
*_*_*_*_*  
  
A/N: One story at a time, people. I know this isn't extraordinary.... But I couldn't really write anything better. Writer's block sucks. But I think the next chapter will better.  
  
I've been thinking about the lyrics.... And I think that I might stop using them. This story is going to go on much longer than the song does. The story will still tie into the lyrics.... If you have an opinion on it, please say so! Hahaha  
  
~~TTFN, Deathdragon4~~ 


	8. Leaving

Easier to Run chapter Eight  
  
"Have you seen Harry lately?" Cloe asked, concerned. "I haven't seen him for days."  
Draco shook his head. "He's not home. I just tried calling him.... He hasn't been home for a week." He scowled as he flipped the top of his laptop down. "Maybe he just needed a break."  
"From what?" Cloe asked skeptically.  
Draco shrugged. "Life. Maybe he just needs time alone to think."  
Cole watched Draco carefully as he lay down on the couch and buried himself in a book. After several long minutes, he looked up at her curiously.  
"Don't pretend nothing happened, Draco," she said softly. "I saw what you did. I know what happened."  
"I don't want to talk about it," Draco muttered, turning back to his book.  
"Why did you do it, Draco? You know he's in a difficult situation already, without you pressuring him!" Cloe exclaimed.  
Draco rolled his eyes and folded the page down in his book. Then he tossed it aside and sat up. "You want to know why I kissed him? Fine. I did it because of you."  
Cloe looked confused. "What the bloody hell are you talking about?"  
"When you pulled me aside at lunch. You made me Ithink/I I liked him. You made me dream up fake feelings for him! So I thought that when I kissed him, I meant it. But now, a week later, I realize what an idiot I am for believing it. Now I know I like him as a friend, no more, no less."  
"Don't you Idare/I pin this on me!" Cloe protested.  
"I'm not," Draco replied simply. "If someone tells you to rob a bank, or trash a house, and you do it, then whose fault is it?"  
  
Harry slammed his car door shut and leaned against the hood, staring up at the small, pathetic building. The windows were cracked and the shudders were hardly hanging off their hinges. The entire building was covered with dust, and looked as though a tornado had just swept directly over it. A broken and rotting wooden sign sat next to the door, the text illegible.  
"So this is it," he whispered, crossing his arms over his chest. A slight smile played on his lips. He closed his eyes as a cool breeze created twists of dust around him.  
He moved slowly to the thin screen door, stretching his legs, and peeked inside. Several polished tables were scattered around the medium- sized room. Leather chairs and couched sat against each wall, and in front of a small, empty fireplace. A large desk sat at the opposite end of the room. A tall, fairly plumb lady with long, straight dirty blond hair sat in front of the desk, holding a magazine up to eye-level.  
He opened the screen door and walked to the desk.  
"Excuse me, the lady at the gas station told me that this is the nearest hotel," he said politely.  
The woman closed her magazine and sat it on the desk, smiling warmly. "Yes, it is," she replied kindly. "Would you like a room?"  
Harry nodded. The woman pulled a slip of paper out of a drawer. "How long will you be staying with us?"  
"One night."  
The woman jotted something on the paper. "That would $97.00. How will you be paying for this; cash, check or credit card?"  
Harry pulled out his leather wallet and handed her his Visa card. She slid the card through the credit card machine and handed it back to him. Then she turned the paper around to face him and handed him a pen. "Just sign on that bottom line there. And I'll need to see some ID."  
He pulled his driver's license out of his wallet too, and scribbled his false name sloppily on the thin black line.  
"Follow me," she smiled. She walked to the left of the room and opened a door. She passed ten different rooms before stopping and inserting the key into the lock of the last room.  
"Are you vacationing for England?" she asked as she pushed the door open.  
"No, I just moved to L.A. from Surrey," he replied.  
"L.A.? You're a bit far from home."  
"How far am I?" Harry asked. "I haven't been keeping track."  
"Well, you're right on the boarder. You're in Oregon now."  
Harry raised his eyebrows. "Really? I didn't think I drove that far."  
"Oh, I know that feeling." She nodded and smiled, handing Harry the key. "I know this place isn't much, but the beds are comfortable, the water's cold and the food's the best you'll ever eat. My name's Shannon. If you need anything at all, just let me know."  
"Thanks," Harry sighed as he walked into his room and closed the door behind him. He sighed heavily as he let himself slip onto the firm spring mattress. He couldn't get Draco out of his mind. He was so confused. What was he supposed to do?  
After seven days of continuous driving, Harry could only come to one conclusion: /I Drive. Leave. Get as far away from Draco as he could. Hell, he'd drive to Canada or Alaska if it meant getting Draco out of his head.  
He kicked off his shoes and closed his eyes. He was so tired... he had nearly fell asleep while driving, so he pulled over to the nearest stop.  
He smiled as he drifted off to sleep. By tomorrow morning, he would have another name, and yet another life.  
  
A/N: Hey! I wrote this in one day, and I like it more than I liked the last two chapters! That's a good sign. Maybe I'm falling out of my writer's block... at least on this story. I'm still working on the rest! Still tough!  
  
TTFN, Deathdragon4 


	9. New Life

Easier to Run chapter nine  
  
"Zerek Cunningham."  
Harry sighed. It didn't feel right. Nothing fit him. But after four long hours of thinking up names, Zerek was the closest he could get.  
"At least it's better than Michael," he muttered as he turned away from the mirror. He rubbed his eyes. Staring into a mirror for four hours was incredibly tough on his vision.  
He looked out his hotel window. The sky was darkening already. The lights of the city burned into the darkness. It looked beautiful from his viewpoint, which seemed so far away from the rushing cars below.  
His cell phone began to ring. He scrambled off his bed and grabbed it from his desk.  
"Hello?"  
"Harry! Where the hell are you? What the hell is going on with you?"  
"How the hell did you get this number?" Harry nearly shouted.  
"I have caller ID, you know. If you didn't want me finding out your number, you wouldn't have left me a message."  
"Cloe, I only called to let you know that I'm okay. I just didn't want you to think that I was murdered or something. But I don't want you calling me anymore! I left for a bloody reason!"  
"And that reason wasn't me?" she asked.  
"Of course not. You're my best friend, Cloe. I would never leave because of you."  
"So why can't we talk?" Cloe inquired.  
"Because you're also good friends with Malfoy, the one I don't want to find me," Harry replied.  
There was a long silence. "Malfoy?!" Cloe exclaimed skeptically. "What happened to Draco?! Harry, what the hell is going on?!"  
"Don't call me that!" Harry growled, frustrated.  
"Oh, sorry, Michael," she spat wildly.  
"Wrong again," Harry muttered, closing his eyes.  
"Who are you now?!" Cloe shouted. "John? Stan? Albert?"  
"Cloe... I have to go," Harry whispered.  
"But—"  
"Just do me a favor, okay?" Harry asked hopefully. "Tell Draco I said goodbye.  
  
"My god." Draco closed his eyes and rubbed his temples.  
"I know, it's horrible," Cloe sighed.  
"This is all my fault! I'm such an idiot."  
"Yes, you are," Cloe mumbled, adjusting her sunglasses.  
Draco rolled over in the sand, so he was laying on his back. "How did this all happen? Harry's not even supposed to be here! He should be back in England!"  
"But isn't there nothing left?" Cloe asked curiously. "I mean, didn't they destroy it all?"  
Draco shook his head. "Just because they destroyed Hogwarts, doesn't mean everything else is gone."  
Cloe let her head fall back and hit the sand.  
"I feel like such a jerk. I'm laying here, getting a nice tan, when I should be out there looking for Harry!"  
"Believe me, Draco, he made it pretty damn clear that he doesn't want to see you again," Cloe told him.  
"If you're trying to help, stop, because it isn't bloody working."  
"Fine," Cloe sighed, standing slowly. "Come on. Let's go find your long lost love."  
Draco glared at her, but made no comment as he stood up.  
"Hey, Clover!" someone shouted from the water. "Haven't seen you around here for a while!"  
Cloe turned around and rolled her eyes. "What the hell do you want, Bret?" she shouted back.  
"The waves are pretty big out there! Wanna make me look good?" he asked, running up to where they stood on the beach.  
"Shut up. I can still kick your ass on the waves, beachboy," she retorted.  
"If you say so."  
Bret had a tall, muscular figure, hazel eyes and dirty blond hair, which was cut two inches long and spiked. His skin was a perfect golden brown. His ears were pierced, he wore light blue, baggy shorts, and had a cast on his right wrist.  
"Oh, what happened to you?" Cloe asked in mock-concern as she raised his wrist. "Get in a fight with your hair drier again?"  
Bret glared at her. Then his eyes wandered over to Draco. "Who's this? Your new boy toy?"  
Cloe chuckled. "If you must know, he's my best friend's boy toy."  
"Cloe!" Draco shouted.  
"Come on, we have to find Harry," Cloe smirked as she jogged to her car.  
Draco followed her reluctantly. "That was cruel. I'm not Harry's boy toy, I told you I don't like him like that!"  
"Chill, I was just joking," Cloe smiled as she climbed into her car. "Bret's so stoned he won't remember tomorrow anyway."  
"Who is he, anyway?" Draco asked as he pulled his shirt on.  
"My ex."  
  
"Todd, I'm tellin' ya, there's no record of either a Michael Smith or a Zerek Cunningham that match your description. I even checked in the muggle archives, no one under either names in England."  
Todd sighed. "Are you sure? There has to be, he can't have just appeared out of nowhere."  
"I can run the searches again if you want, but I'm pretty sure you're on a ghost hunt."  
"Thanks, Everett. You don't have to do that, you've done enough for me already."  
"Yeah, well, you owe me. Bye."  
"Bye." Todd clicked the off button on his cell phone and growled slightly. Michael – Zerek – whatever his name was, was obviously keeping something from them. Something big. Who would lie about who they were to their friends?  
He climbed out of his car and stared up at the Hilton Hotel. He preyed Michael wasn't staying there – it could take him hours, even days to check all the rooms – assuming the management wouldn't help him out, that is. He opened the car trunk and took out a fairly large, empty box, which was tightly wrapped in tape. He pulled a nametag from his pocket and clipped it to his shirt. Then he ran across the road and pulled the hotel's front door open.  
"Excuse me," he said politely to the thin blond woman at the front desk. "I have a delivery for a Zerek Cunningham. I was told he's staying here?"  
"Let me check," the woman smiled, somewhat coldly. Shy typed something into the computer, then nodded. "Yes, he is. If you leave the package here we'll be sure to get it to him."  
"Well, my boss told me to deliver the package personally," Todd said, giving her a charming smile. "She would be rather upset if I didn't follow her orders correctly."  
The woman gave Todd a peculiar look, then sighed. "Alright. It would be nice if you didn't mention this to anyone – we aren't supposed to give any information away about our visitors – but he's in room 409.  
"Thanks," Todd grinned, half-jogging towards a long hall. As soon as he was out of sight of the front desk, he tossed the box into the garbage can next to the closest hotel room and slipped the nametag back into his pocket, then sprinted towards the elevators.  
  
A/N: Woot!!!! I am having SOOOOO much fun writing this!!!! Really! I haven't had this much fun since... I wrote the tenth chapter. Yesh, I wrote the tenth chapter before the ninth, something I've never done before, but it helped me get out of my writer's block. I should do that more often.... So I'll have the tenth chapter up pretty damn soon, so look out for it.  
  
So how is the story without the lyrics? Do you think I should put them back in? I don't know, it's up to you guys. But if no one comments THEN I'M KEEPING THEM OUT!!!!  
  
Alright, bye-bye, I have to go start writing some more for All I've Got, if I can manage it. sigh too tough......  
  
TTFN, Deathdragon4 


	10. Old Friends

Easier to Run chapter ten  
  
For some reason, nothing seemed okay or alright. Everything seemed wrong, and out of place. Nothing was the same as it had been back in Los Angeles, or England. And he knew why.  
Harry had made a point of distancing himself from everyone else. He didn't want to get hurt again, and he knew that if he let someone else get close to him, he would be. So he stayed silent and alone, spending most of his time in his hotel room or the back of a deserted restaurant as he thought about nothing.  
But being alone felt different. He had never had a chance to just sit, thinking, without being disturbed by anyone. The only time he ever had alone time was when he was back in the Dursleys' house, and that was a painful loneliness.  
Thoughts of his old life in England kept running back into his mind. He tried to concentrate on something else, perhaps getting a job in Portland or running even farther north, but the memories continued to haunt him.  
"I don't want to think about it anymore," he whispered, rubbing his temples. "I don't want to remember. I want it all to go away."  
There was a loud knock on his hotel room door. He jumped slightly. He hadn't been expecting anyone to bother him – but he was glad they did. It was the only way he could take his mind off his old life.  
He opened the door slowly, eyes still half-closed. But his eyes widened as he realized who was standing in front of him.  
"How... h-how did..." he stuttered, shocked.  
"We need to talk." Todd stepped into the hotel room without waiting for an invitation.  
"How'd you find me here?" Harry finally managed to sputter.  
"It's amazing how far a simple picture can get you," Todd replied, pulling out a small sheet of paper from his jacket pocket. He handed it to Harry, and sat on the couch.  
"But...."  
Todd sighed. "I'm the only one who knows you're here, you don't need to worry. I didn't tell anyone and I don't plan to. But Cloe and Draco are going crazy with worry. You really scared them."  
"Well, I... I didn't know anyone really cared about me," Harry whispered.  
"Of course we do!" Todd exclaimed. "Why do you think I came here? I wouldn't come all the way across a state and a half just to find someone I don't care about!"  
Harry sat down on the couch at the opposite end of Todd without saying a word.  
"I just want to ask you a few things," Todd said quietly. "In L.A. you were Michael Smith. So were you in Ashland. But when I got up here, when I asked people about you, they started calling you Zerek. But there's no record of either a Zerek Cunningham or a Michael Smith, either in England or America. What's going on?"  
Harry didn't answer. He couldn't believe that Todd could have figured this all out. No one could figure that all out on their own.  
"How do you know all this?" Harry asked quietly.  
"Cloe's friend back in England works with the Prime Minister," Todd shrugged. "He helped me out."  
Harry smiled slightly.  
"I don't know why you're doing all this, and I'm not going to stop you," Todd said after a long moment, standing up. "I just want to remind you of one thing. You had a life back in L.A. You had friends. You had people you could talk to, and hang out with. I just don't see why you'd give all of that up, just because of a mistake kiss."  
He started for the door. Harry looked up at him. "You came all this way, just to tell me that?" he asked.  
Todd shrugged. "What are friends for?" Then he disappeared down the hallway.  
Harry exhaled deeply, releasing a breath he didn't even know he was holding. He never knew anyone cared about him so much. He couldn't believe that someone he hardly knew would drive across two states just to find him. Maybe his old life was worth more than he had thought.  
  
A redhead rolled to a stop a table away. He moved his wheelchair right to the edge of the table and pushed the chair away. Soon a waitress walked toward him and spoke to him for a brief moment, then moved back to the bar.  
Harry took a long swig of his firewhiskey. The fierce burning in this throat was more of a comfort than a burden. Something seemed too familiar about this guy. But he couldn't be... could he?  
Harry watched the redhead for a long while, perhaps two hours, before he realized how late it was. He looked out the window. It was pitch black outside; he couldn't even see the broken lamppost directly outside the window. The redhead didn't leave the table the entire time.  
New thoughts flashed through Harry's mind. What if it was? How would he react at talking to his best friend again? Would he be mad? After all, Harry had just left – never checked to see if anyone was still alive, just ran. What would he think? He just didn't know what to think, what to do.  
Finally, the redhead pulled a coin pouch from a navy blue bag that hung from the armrest of his wheelchair and dropped a sickle on the table. Then he pulled his wheelchair back and pushed it towards the door.  
Something snapped inside Harry. He had to know. He couldn't just sit back and watch this man leave the bar, without even knowing who he was. It would be a terrible mistake.  
He jumped up and ran after the redhead, who was already opening the door. He felt as if he couldn't breathe, couldn't speak, and suddenly couldn't move. He just stood there for a long moment, before he realized the redhead was almost out the door.  
"Ron!"  
  
"Todd! Where have you been?"  
Todd hesitated for a moment when he saw Cloe, but then dropped his keys on the shelf next to the door and strolled into their flat. "Out," he replied calmly. "Have you found Zer – Michael yet?"  
Draco shook his head. "Looked all over town. Think he left. Must've figured we'd be looking for him. Common sense."  
"It's nearly midnight, Todd," Cloe sighed. "We've been looking for you, too. You've been gone for two days!"  
Todd sighed also and fell onto the couch. "I just don't wanna talk about it, alright? I haven't been getting into trouble or anything, I swear. I was just out for a drive."  
Cloe rolled her eyes. "Whatever. Draco's crashing on the couch tonight, he had a little too much to drink earlier, and I'm not trusting him home alone."  
"'Scuse me," Draco mumbled, slurring his words slightly, "but 'him' is right here. Don't hafta act like I can't hear you. Besides, I'm fine. I 'ave a couple potions at home that'll sober me up."  
"Draco..."  
"Cloe..."  
Todd laughed.  
"Come on, Cloe, I'm not gonna go get in a car crash or anything, I only had two drinks. Please?"  
"I'm sure he'll be fine, Cloe. He's a responsible adult, just like you," Todd said in a sarcastic tone.  
Cloe mock-glared at Todd and rolled her eyes at Draco. "Fine. But if you get in trouble, don't call me if you get thrown into jail or something."  
Draco smiled and hugged her. "See you tomorrow. Don't worry, I'll be careful walking home." He ran out the door.  
"At least call a cab!" Cloe called after him.  
When Draco got out onto the street, he slowed down. He felt so lightheaded, he wished he had called a cab. It was ten blocks back to his hotel, and he already felt like he was going to collapse. But something seemed to urge him to keep walking, to get back to his hotel room as soon as he could. He didn't feel safe for some reason. He thought perhaps it was the drinks he had had, perhaps they were the reason he felt so jumpy. But something just wasn't right. And then he heard it.  
Footsteps. He could feel someone behind him, hear the quiet tap of shoes hitting pavement. He stopped. The footsteps continued for a split second, then halted. Draco walked forward another ten yards, then stopped. This time, the footsteps sped up. Draco spun around and pulled his wand out his pocket. He was shocked.  
"Snape?" he asked. "What are you doing here?"   
  
A/N: Hope you liked it! I know I did. I'm having so much fun with this story, it's almost insane how much fun it is. I'll get started on the next chapter soon, but it'll be pretty hard to write.  
  
TTFN, Deathdragon4 


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